Slowtown

21

The first three seconds of waking up is pure bliss because you don't remember anything.

...

I guess the answer is: I collapsed. Whoops.

I turn over–in a bed, I notice–and my shoulders tense and ache like I fell from a twenty story building. I turn my head, and the cheek that I lifted off the pillow is soaked in sweat. This is gross, and it's intensified by the fact that I haven't changed out of these grimy clothes in more than a day. My eyes are stuck together, and opening them is the most unpleasant experience. Ugh, God, I rub away all the crusties from my eyes, but blinking is just ew. I can't take how uncomfortable I am anymore, so I sit up.

The sunshine pouring out on the floor is a nice sight, glowing in its early morning way. I'm vaguely aware of steps that sound like they're nearing this room– which is not mine, I now see. Oh hey, it's Lisa. She observes me, and then leans her head on the doorpost, looking relieved, but still judging me so hard. "Don't let this be the beginning of what Josh got himself into," she rumbles.

I shrug. Okay. You're not going to elaborate?

"Come on," she summons me, swaying her arms.

I'm not so wary around her anymore, so I follow. I realize I'm in her house for the second time. We walk through the open doorway from where I was knocked out, down a short hallway, around a corner, and into a kitchen. She waves me to sit at a chair at the table, and slumps herself down to the one at my right. She crosses her arms up onto the table and bows her head into them.

I do care about her apparent tiredness. I saw how she carried her exhaustion, and right now it looks to be attacking her. "What's wrong?" I still manage to surprise myself by asking gently.

She pulls her head up and grinds the palms of her hands into her eyes. "Everything... just as always." She glares right through me, looking like she barely has the control to force her eyes open. "Jenna saw you running down the street at 1:09 AM. Then you collapsed, and she got Josh and they brought you to me."

"Were you awake all night?" I must know if she's like this because of me.

"No. I just don't sleep well. Ever." She seriously looks like she could pass out any second.

"Where's Josh?"

"At home." She bows her head onto her arms again.

"Do you have a headache?" Look, I know I'm not usually talkative like this, but I'm putting an effort into being nice today.

"No."

An effort which she is not helping me uphold.

"Where were you running to?" she inquires.

"To nowhere. Just running for the sake of running."

"Hm."

Two minutes of silence pass slowly.

"Tyler, I want you to help me with something," she mumbles unenthusiastically. I nod, but even though I don't think she noticed, she continues. "Keep an eye on Josh for me. He doesn't always like talking to me anymore, and I don't push it, so could you look out for him to... be sure he doesn't get himself into any harm? At least try?"

"Okay." Does this mean I'll have to trail behind him? I word my next question carefully in my head, but it's far too idiotic as it comes out of my mouth. "What's wrong with him? I've heard some... implications, but... I don't know..."

"He had big problems before he came here-"

"Yeah, he told me."

"Oh, no kidding. Okay then," she sighs. "His situation is weird. I've thought about it a lot, actually."

I kinda laugh at her vague description of him being "weird." "What do you mean?"

Oh Lord, it pains me to see how difficult it is for her to gather up her thoughts. "The last thing he did when he was... at home... he tried to commit. You know. And so, that seems to be the only thing he tries to do when he's not around other people. ... Like his mind is just picking up where it left off. But that might be just a Josh thing. Jenna- I know she brought you here but have you met her?"

"Yes."

"Well, Jenna doesn't seem to be that way." An extended pause. "How old are you Tyler?"

Uh. All the background commotion that constantly goes on in my head has stopped dead. Every nerve impulse, paused. I can barely, barely grasp enough of myself to just guess, "Like, eighteen...?" Okay, that sounds true, feels true enough.

"Don't quite remember?" she asks, expressionless. "Me neither. I'm like, probably twenty-nine."

She's unsure. Like Jenna, who doesn't quite know anything. And now I want to know just who is Lisa. I've always had an urge to know just what goes on in people's heads. What's under their skulls that they keep all to themselves, what makes them a person. Honestly, most of the time I want this so I can have reasons for being mad at people, and call out their utter ignorance, and tell them to shove your thoughts back down your throat before your tongue can taste the prejudice.

I am an angry person, always have been. Was a quick tempered kid. Grew to be a person who lets the lava leak out of my head. As long as I don't open my mouth, I won't spill any. But one of these days I know I'll burn through my skin.